


Liverpool disappears for a billionth of a second...

by Xabisgirl



Category: Men’s Football RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, New Relationship, porn with slight plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 15:47:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16915743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xabisgirl/pseuds/Xabisgirl
Summary: The earth moves for Dejan





	Liverpool disappears for a billionth of a second...

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Ливерпуль исчезает на долю секунды...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18254747) by [maylinaddams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maylinaddams/pseuds/maylinaddams)



> The title and theme shamelessly stolen from the brilliant poem of the same name by Paul Farley. I seriously recommend googling it and having a read. 
> 
> Mo did get waxed and there’s an Instagram post to prove it, although when he took his top off after the derby, his chest hair seemed to be growing back. 
> 
> Comments very welcome and gratefully received.

Liverpool disappears for a billionth of a second...

 

...That’s the closest he can come to describing the jolt he feels when Mo smiles. You can’t fake a smile like that, the joyousness and innocence, the unguarded happiness that radiates out from it. 

...That’s how he feels when the tendrils of Mo’s irrepressible hair tickle his chin as Mo’s head lies pillowed on his shoulder.

...It’s what happens when he moves behind Mo one day and sneaks a hand up inside his top and feels smooth warm skin instead of the usual soft furriness. “What the fu...” he asks. Mo twists in his arms, turns laughing to face him, clearly pleased by surprising him. “Do you like it, Dej?” He asks. Dejan hesitates, because actually he loved Mo’s chest hair, loved the contrast between the ridges of firm muscle and the soft strands covering them, loved to twine it idly through his fingers as they lay in bed together. “Let’s see it,” he says, playing for time. This feels more Ronaldo than Salah, the act of a more knowing, image-conscious man than his Mo, a loss of innocence perhaps. But then Mo lifts his top, almost shyly, and Liverpool does its disappearing act again and all Dejan wants to do is lick his way down the little channel at the centre of Mo’s six pack. The universe stitches itself back together as the other lads clatter in, and Mo’s wax job is the subject of much good-natured banter, although he keeps looking at Dejan for reassurance.

...It first happened when he first kissed Mo. He was round at Mo’s house and they’d got silly giggly playing Fifa. Dejan was laughing so hard he could barely speak, but before he could think better of it, he blurted out, “I fucking love you, Mo.” The other man stopped giggling and grabbed Dejan’s hand. “I love you”, he said sincerely. Dejan was tempted to laugh it off as he had all the other times they’d flirted over coffee or games of chess, but a look in Mo’s dark eyes stopped him. “I...” he managed, but Mo brought the hand he was holding up to his cheek and pressed it against his soft beard. One part of Dejan’s brain was thinking what a bad idea this was, but the other, bigger part brought his other hand up to Mo’s face and gently cupped it between his hands. “Mo,” he breathed. “Dej, I want...”. The rest of that sentence was lost as their lips met gently at first and then with increasing intensity. Whoosh, there went the city and everything in it, and Dejan was lost. One hand slipped up into the younger man’s tangle of curls, the other round to his back to pull him closer. When they finally drew apart, there was a shy smile on Mo’s face. “Is ok?” he asked. All Dejan could do was nod dazedly, and pull Mo close again for another kiss. 

...the first time Mo sucks him off, Liverpool retreats so far Dejan worries it’ll never come back. It’s two weeks after the first kiss, and they’ve been messing around, kissing for hours, hands up shirts caressing nipples and stroking muscles, the occasional brush of a hand against a hard cock, but always on the outside of their jeans, plausible deniability of an accidental touch maintained. But it’s becoming obvious that this, whatever it is between them, is going to go further. Dejan’s obsessed, he can hardly think about anything else, wakes up hard in the morning with Mo’s name on his lips, goes to sleep with his last thought of the Egyptian. 

And tonight there’s a new intensity about Mo, his kisses are deeper, sloppier and he unbuttons Dejan’s shirt, and circles his tongue round each nipple in turn as his hand caresses Dejan’s taut stomach muscles, slipping his fingers under the waistband of his jeans. He looks up at Dejan, as if asking permission, but Dejan’s gone, his head thrown back, his breath coming in short pants that turn to almost a whimper as Mo’s hand slides further down and finds the object of his quest. This is the furthest they’ve gone and Dejan is so turned on he can hardly stand it. Mo rubs his hand open-palmed along the length of Dejan’s cock, his own breath catching and quickening. His thumb finds Dejan’s slit, oozing pre-cum already, and now he’s desperate to taste it, to taste how much Dejan wants this. He unzips Dejan’s jeans and takes a moment to admire the way his cock tents his black Calvins. “Mo, please”, mutters Dejan, almost unable to believe what he thinks is going to happen, but Mo needs no further encouragement. He frees Dejan’s cock from his underwear, grasps the base of it and brings his mouth towards it. 

Dejan can scarcely comprehend what’s happening but he looks down to see Mo’s tongue flicker out to lick the head of his cock, tasting his juices. Mo clearly likes it as he takes Dejan’s cock into his mouth, sucking and rubbing his hand up and down the shaft. Dejan nearly passes out from the combination of sensations, the warm, tugging mouth on his most sensitive area, the firm hand on the rest of his cock, the gentle tickle of Mo’s beard, Mo’s other hand reaching down to cup his balls, the knowledge that his teammate is sucking him off. Panic flashes momentarily across his brain because he knows there’s no going back to being just friends any more, but then he realises he doesn’t care about that at this exact moment, because Mo’s mouth is so hot and feels so good. He threads his hand into Mo’s hair, not to control his movements but in warning. He’s so fucking close to coming, but he’s not sure of the etiquette. “Mo, I...” he gasps, before he can hold back his orgasm no longer. Mo knows, though, and he removes his mouth just as Dejan comes, but carries on with his rhythmic stroking as the cum spurts out and Dejan loses it, his moans loud and breathless.

Everything disappears and there’s nothing but sensation and pleasure. It goes on for what seems like for ever, as Mo carries on sliding his hand up and down Dejan’s shaft, more gently now as his orgasm ebbs and his breathing slows. Finally, he’s capable of meaningful speech, and he mutters, “Fuck, Mo, that was so fucking good.” Mo looks up at him, eyes shining, and moves up his body to kiss him. He can taste his own muskiness on Mo’s tongue and it makes him lick his tongue deep into Mo’s mouth. As he does so, he slides his hands up under Mo’s T-shirt, and finds the groove between the ridges of muscle on his back. He’s conscious that it’s Mo’s turn, but he’s not sure what to do, not sure he’s ready to return the favour. “Mo, I don’t...I can’t...”, but Mo knows, knows that Dej is a little less prepared for this. “It’s okay, Dej”, he says, and slips off his T-shirt. He kisses Dejan until his breathing starts to quicken again and he’s running his hands over Mo’s chest and stomach. Mo is humping his erection against Dejan’s thigh until he can bear it no longer. He undoes his jeans and frees his cock from his underwear. He catches hold of Dejan’s hand, gently brings it down to his cock and wraps it around it, keeping his hand over the other man’s. He starts to move Dejan’s hand up and down, but although this might be his first time touching another man’s penis, Dejan has of course touched his own and he knows what feels good. “Let me, brate”, he says and Mo lets his hand fall and gives himself up to the other man’s ministrations. 

Awkwardly at first, but with increasing confidence, Dejan strokes Mo’s cock, getting faster and faster as Mo’s moans tell him he’s so close to coming. “Ah, ah, Dej, you kill me”, he stutters, and Dejan feels the hot fluid leak out over his hand. Mo clings to Dejan as his orgasm ebbs, pillowing his head on the other man’s smooth chest. Dejan wipes his hand on the nearest available fabric, which happens to be Mo’s T-shirt. “Hey, that’s my favourite”, Mo complains. “It’s your mess”, Dejan points out, although he then uses it to clean his own cum off his stomach. “I’ll buy you a new one, baby” he promises, the endearment slipping out. It hangs in the air a moment, as new to them as what they've just done. Then Mo smiles that big smile of his, Liverpool flies away again and settles back, just very very slightly out of place, and Dejan relaxes. Everything will, somehow, be all right.


End file.
